


Angelic Renewal

by Mertiya



Series: Story Circle [31]
Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: F/F, MTGship, Month of the Ship, Prompt Fill, Sleepy Cuddles, post war of the spark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 06:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18424344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya
Summary: In the aftermath, there are MORE cuddles.





	Angelic Renewal

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the prompt "cuddles" and it sort of expands on the previous fic from a different perspective.

            Feathers. Lavinia sinks her hands into the white softness all about her, stroking carefully along the grain. She doesn’t know how quickly angels heal; just a few hours ago, she watched this woman take a sword strike across her bottom pair of wings. There’s been no time to rest until now, until this warm soft safety.

            Lavinia doesn’t know her, this Boros archangel who appeared from nowhere to shore up their faltering flank, but they’ve saved each other’s lives a dozen times today, and that’s got to count for something.

            The angel shifts and murmurs something quiet, running her fingers through Lavinia’s hair; Lavinia sighs and rests her head against the angel’s shoulder.

            “You fought well,” the angel says after a moment, her voice gentle, almost softspoken, gentler than Lavinia might have expected from the Boros.

            “So did you,” she replies, her own voice barely more than a whisper. Perhaps it’s just that the calm after the storm has seeped into both of them, quieting them with the strange hollowness of this aftermath. This safety. This warmth.

            The angel smiles at her with bright amber eyes from beneath her messy halo of red hair. “You remind me of an old friend,” she says, her thumb resting for an instant on Lavinia’s cheekbone. “A long time gone, but…you fight like him.”

            Warmth floods Lavinia’s cheek, and she huddles closer against the angel’s side. “I’m glad we met. Perhaps you might consider getting dinner with me once Ravnica is a bit more…pieced back together?”

            “I’d love to. Pivliccino’s, perhaps?”

            “Perfect,” Lavinia sighs, but her eyes are growing heavy; the rhythmic stroking of her own fingers through those soft downy feathers is pulling her towards sleep. The angel hums with pleasure, her wings shivering slightly beneath Lavinia’s ministrations. “What’s your name?” Lavinia murmurs with her last dregs of consciousness.

            “Pierakor,” the angel breathes in her ear. “But you can call me Feather.”


End file.
